


Nature and Peace

by MamzelleCombeferre



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Canon Era, Fluff, Moths, general adorableness, quoting of Ecclesiasties
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-24
Updated: 2013-04-24
Packaged: 2017-12-09 10:25:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 947
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/773135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MamzelleCombeferre/pseuds/MamzelleCombeferre
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Combeferre has some trouble with a moth and Jehan and he have a discussion about the cycle of nature.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Nature and Peace

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally for an art exchange with on deviantart. She asked for something about Combeferre and his moths. As always, please leave honest feedback. Concrit is essential as I strive to improve my prose!

“Nothing in the universe is contingent, but all things are conditioned to exist and operate in a particular manner by the necessity of the divine nature.”  
-Baruch Spinoza

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

It was a beautiful specimen of Lepidoptera. Phalaena Strigata to be exact, just hatched from the cocoon. He’d taken it out of the jar to closer examine it before mounting it to his display case, but it quickly escaped and was now fluttering about the backroom of the Musain. Combeferre tried waiting for it fly back down to the table, but after nearly fifteen minutes of waiting, he found himself balancing precariously on a table grabbing out in vain attempts to catch the moth without crushing it. 

The moth itself-it must be noted- seemed to enjoy the struggle of its captor and had taken to flying in lazy circles around the far edges of the table. After one unsuccessful attempt at capture nearly sent him stumbling to the floor, Combeferre let out a tch of annoyance, but in stepping down from the table Jehan entered with a cheerful greeting, sending Combeferre to the floor nonetheless. 

“Oh Combeferre!” Jehan squeaked, rushing over to help his friend up. 

“Hello Jehan.” Combeferre groaned, and took Jehan’s proffered hand. Once standing, Jehan seemed to scarcely be able to hold back laughter. “What?”

Jehan didn’t answer. Instead he straightened his friend’s glasses, brushed dust off Combeferre’s waistcoat, and then asked a question of his own. “What were you doing up there? I’m all in favor of trying to view the world in a different perspective, but not at the cost of one’s wellbeing.” 

Combeferre turned red and muttered. “The Lepidoptera was literally flying circles around me.” 

Jehan laughed outright at this. “Perhaps it did not appreciate your intentions of sticking a pin in its back.” It was no secret that despite his great respect for Combeferre, the poet rather disdained Combeferre’s hobby of moth collection. “It’s such a lovely shade of whitish pink too!” 

“Which is precisely why I wanted it for study.” Combeferre said, still miffed by the evasiveness of the specimen. “This particular Phalaena Strigata had some peculiar wing patterns which I wished to show a colleague of one of my professors, a natural scientist of the highest caliber.” 

As if sensing Combeferre’s frustration, the moth finally landed, settling itself on Jehan’s head of romantic curls. Plucking it off between his thumb and pointer finger, Combeferre carried it to the open display case with a soft sound of contentment. 

With a few more valiant spasms of the wings, the moth finally gave itself over to death as the pin was inserted.

“I do not understand how you can stomach this hobby of yours Combeferre.” Jehan screwed his face up into a grimace, though the effect was more like that of any angry kitten. 

“In the progression of science, sacrifices must sometimes be made, some larger than others.” Combeferre looked down somberly. “I do not gain pleasure from these sacrifices, but I understand the necessity of them.” 

“Death should never be a necessity.” Jehan frowned, deeply disturbed by the idea of necessary violence. “There is no comfort to be found in necessity, only futility, and there is no refuge in futility.” 

“There may be in cycle though. There is a time and a reason for everything.”

Jehan waved his hand dismissively. “Yes, yes, I know. From the Ecclesiastes. A time to be born and a time to die.” He recited.

He jumped when Combeferre joined in. “A time to plant and a time to uproot.”

“To kill and to heal.” Jehan continued. 

“To tear down and to build.”

“To weep and to laugh.”

“To mourn and to dance.”

“To scatter stones and gather them.” They spoke back and forth. 

“To embrace, to refrain.”

“To keep and to throw away.”

“To tear and to mend.” Jehan’s mouth quirked upwards at the corners.

“To be silent and to speak.”

“To love and to hate.”

“For war and for peace.” Combeferre finished, a somberness lacing the edges of his words. 

Jehan sighed deeply. “There is so little peace in the world Combeferre. Why could we not have afforded some to that small moth?” 

The answer did not come right away. Combeferre had to think long and hard about that. He was a practical man, but a dreamer too, though that part of him did not always shine through in the way he wished it to. When a great many minutes passed, Combeferre looked up from the table which he had been staring at and said, “To live in a world where the cool methodic progression of progress could be allowed to take its course is the ideal, but I know you are a practical man too Jehan. That day is not today, and nature’s laws must apply to all creatures of the earth and sky.” He shut the lid of the display case and latched it closed. 

“Perhaps when it is our time to pass, we might hope someone will afford us a few moments of peace as well.” Jehan murmured. There was resoluteness to his voice that kept Combeferre from riposting back. 

“Some fresh air might do us some good.” Is all he said, offering his arm to the poet. “I was going to get some lunch. Maybe we can make it a picnic. After all it is a fine June day.” Surely there would be something to strike Jehan’s fancy there.

“I would like that greatly.” Jehan said, the tension of the previous conversation momentarily forgotten, swallowed by the prospect of the warm sunshine on his face and butterflies and lady bugs almost as numerous as people. Both left with smiles on their faces.


End file.
